


into your glow

by raccooninvestigator



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ficlet, First Kiss, M/M, alcohol mention, just feeling soft and gay, might delete later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-25 00:21:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21687019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raccooninvestigator/pseuds/raccooninvestigator
Summary: Sometimes you gotta write soft shit for No Delete December.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 3
Kudos: 68





	into your glow

**Author's Note:**

> A gift for Cyrus, since our RP is going rough.

The sound of the door closing behind them is what wakes Ashe up. He’s warm, wrapped in a cloak and someone’s strong arms. He knows whose arms they are without his eyes opening. He’s memorized the feeling of them in gentle embraces for six long years, mapped every muscle and scar with each soft touch. “Dedue,” he whispers, rolling closer into his chest. With his eyes closed, he can imagine that sweet smile, the one he likes to pretend is just for him. Dedue sinks into a bed, cradling him like a precious gift, and Ashe can smell his cinnamon-sweet breath as he leans down.

“You’re safe now,” Dedue promises him, voice low. His arms shift, and Ashe wriggles in his grasp, freeing his own arms from the fur surrounding him and wrapping his arms around Dedue’s neck instead. His eyes blink open sleepily. The moonlight trickling through the window lights his friend’s face like a halo, like an angel, like a precious thing. A bubbly grin spreads over Ashe’s face as he leans in toward Dedue.

“Don’t go.” Even half-asleep, Ashe makes his voice into a command, summoning every ounce of authority the last six years have granted him. “Not yet.” And so Dedue stays, leaning back against the stone wall of Ashe’s dorm room, holding the younger man upright. Ashe sinks his face into Dedue’s shoulder with a loud sigh, knees straddling either side of Dedue’s leg as he wobbles slowly.

“You shouldn’t have had so mu-” Dedue begins to nag him, but Ashe can only shush him loudly in response. He was fine. Tipsy, yes, but fine. A slender finger falls against Dedue’s full lips, and Ashe can feel him shiver at the touch. He lets the other hand roam his friend’s shoulders, enjoying the feeling of strong muscles under his hand.

“I think if we’re going to celebrate the end of the war, I can do whatever I want,” he whispered, putting on airs of pouting and breaking eye contact with the man he is resting on. Dedue begins to pull away from Ashe’s finger, but he presses back firmly, keeping those lips sealed with nothing but a gesture. “I’m not done,” he insists, voice a high pitched whine, but he can’t help but giggle again. Ashe rolls off Dedue’s lap, pulling his blankets up over his shoulders, tightening them around him like a cloak. “You.” His voice is almost reverent, an odd whiplash from his laughter. Dedue leans against his fist, staring down at the blanket pile beside him.

“Me?” he asks. His voice is so innocent, like he doesn’t know what’s on Ashe’s mind. As if the pink cheeks beneath those freckles is nothing more than a flush from a night of wine and cheer. As if Ashe hasn’t been staring at him all night long like he was something short of the divine. As if he hasn’t been staring back, not just tonight, but for as long as he can remember.

The movement is slow, clumsy - a little bit anxiety, a little bit alcohol, but mostly longing. Ashe wraps his arms around Dedue’s neck once more, pulling him down, down, down to him. Ashe tastes like honey and moscato and mint against his mouth, and he moans like someone about to drown in the ocean of their own dreams. Dedue holds him tight by the waist when he pulls away.

“Don’t go,” Dedue echoes, breathless. A small smile forms on his face, and Ashe needs nothing more than to kiss those smiling lips, again and again, for as long as he can. And so he does, hands tangling in Dedue’s hair, pressing him as tight against him as he can.

Ashe is right: those smiles always have been just for him.


End file.
